


Life With You

by inabodycastofglass



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst caused by idiots who can't communicate, F/M, no secret identities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7099774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabodycastofglass/pseuds/inabodycastofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian's been watching over Mari since he was three when his father took him in.</p><p>Update: I might be shutting down my account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ballet

**Author's Note:**

> I started this back in 2012 and have been working on it very, very slowly ever since. So, while I have been editing it, the quality will change greatly as it progresses.

Damian was seven when he started taking Mari to her dance classes. Dick was busy at work and Kori had a photo shoot. And his father was sleeping until his evening meeting. So Damian had to get out of bed at seven-thirty to help Mari put her hair in a bun and walk her to the dance studio.

He handed her over to her teacher and went to get a coffee from across the street. He made Dick write a note saying it was for him so he could actually get one. Last time the lady had refused to sell one to him, and he fell asleep outside Kori’s photo studio with Mari snuggled up against him.

He didn’t mind taking her to class as much as he let on. It showed that they trusted him despite his age. Taking care of Mari was Dick’s top priority. Now if only his father would trust him half as much.

When the class was over she came running up to Damian and jumped on him and hugged him and told him about all the things she’d learned. First position is this, and she showed him. Second position is this. She goes on through all the positions. And they have these stretches they have to do at home. Damian told her she needed to make sure to warm up her body before stretching or else she’d get hurt and she promises to do so.

And she asked him if he was going to take her tomorrow, too. And, as much as Damian wanted to think no one has even the least bit of control over him, he can’t say no to her.


	2. Bullying

Damian was ten when Mari started getting picked on in school. Some trash about her being ugly.

He found her crying in a bathroom before dinner where she asked him if he could cut her hair for her because one of the girls told her it was greasy.

The next week he found her examining her eyes. She asked him if she should wear glasses to hide them.

Not even three days after she was picking at her skin. One of the girls had called her carrot skin. This made Damian stop. Her skin was dark like her fathers, hardly tinted, and no more than any other humans.

She told him she was worried about embarrassing her mother. Damian couldn’t stand it anymore. The girls were obviously jealous. And at seven-years-old they had decided to tear a beautiful young girl down and made her feel ugly.

"The only thing that would embarrass your mother is if you walked around with your head down, looking at the floor. I don’t know why you think you’re ugly, because those girls are obviously idiots who don’t know anything. You know what’s beautiful? Confidence. Not your hair, not your eyes, not your skin. Looking forward and standing tall is attractive. You’re a princess, Mari. Now act like it!“

He'd defused the tension, the way she stared at him with wide, wet eyes, by offering to kill them for her, that way they’d never pick on her again.

She yelled at him that they were just people, not villains, and that would make them the bad guys. Then she stormed off indignantly.

Damian watched her go with a smirk. If she would just act like that all the time, no one would pick on her.


	3. Robin

Damian was twelve when Mari came to him, dressed in a handmade, poorly constructed Robin costume, ranting about starting a team. He refused to listen to her. No. Her father wanted her to have nothing to do with the masked life.

She stomped her foot indignantly. Her mother thought it was a wonderful idea. She was born to be a warrior after all.

He watched her hair light up at the tips, a warmer colour than her mother’s. It was amazing how much of a perfect blend she was between her parents.

And besides, he was a superhero. And he was just a human, with human strength and human agility, and no special powers at all.

That wasn’t the point, but Mari wouldn’t listen. She was perfectly capable of protecting herself and others, and if he didn’t want to be on her team, she would just start it without him.

And if he would please excuse her, she had a ballet class, and no, she didn’t need him to take her.


	4. Caved

It was only a month after their fight that Damian caved. She hadn’t spoken to him since, and at the dinner table she would just sit there and glare at him.

Dick asked him several times what was going on, but Damian refused to answer. There was no reason to worry Dick. Mari would never get her team off the ground without someone to help.

And besides, this was between the two of them.

That was, until Dick and Kori got into a screaming match in the main room. Alfred wouldn’t let anyone in, though they were audible through the door.

"She’s nine!“

"The same age you were when you started.”

"And do you know how many times I almost died?“

"You had Damian running round with you when he was ten. Why is Mari any different? Because she’s a girl? She’s a warrior, Dick!”

"She’s my daughter!“

It was silent, and when Kori spoke again she was quiet and Damian missed the first part. He had to lean against the door to hear the rest.

"Mari will do what she wishes, whether we try to keep her from it or not. She is Tameranian, a princess, and your daughter. She is born to rebel.”

"But you’re helping her.“

"Yes, I am. I would rather have someone helping and watching out for her than having her go it alone. Wouldn’t you?”

Damian stopped listening. Now that Kori had given Mari permission, only death could stop her.

He met her at her room as she was leaving for class, her bun loose. She glared at him, her arms crossed and her hip out like a much older girl.

"I give.“

She grinned and jumped, clapping her hands wildly. She spoke quickly of all the fun they would have.

"On one condition. There can be only one Robin.”

"Okay, fine.“ She gathered her composure and cleared her throat. She walked past him before stopping and turning back, her eyes half lidded and smirking. "Well, aren’t you going to walk me?”

He couldn’t help his smile as he followed her.


	5. Late Nights

Mari was eleven when she stopped crawling into Damian’s bed after a nightmare. She had decided that, as a warrior, she couldn’t keep looking for solace in someone else, even in Damian.

That didn’t mean she’d stopped having them.

* * *

Damian was fifteen when he walked past Mari’s room and found her crying.

She stopped when she saw him, more from shock than any sort of self control, with the way her eyes opened wide.

"Dami. Did you just wake up?“ She let her legs slide down slowly, which he could tell made her uncomfortable due to how her eyebrows shifted downward just slightly. She wasn’t even close to an actress.

He walked over to her bed and sat down next to her knees. "Who was it this time? Your dad?”

"He’s not home yet. And I tried to stay up but I only got four hours of sleep last night, ‘cause he didn’t get home until two. And it’s already four and he’s still not home.“

Damian put a hand on her knee, used to this situation by then. "Your dad’s a professional. He won’t die. He’s too good.”

"But you died.“ She was staring at him, her eyes wide, serious, locked on his.

He didn’t have a response. Usually he could say something, even something wildly inappropriate.

But she was right.

When he returned, months of his life gone, his mind not quite all there yet, not sure where he was, her arms wrapped around him as she sobbed into his shoulder. She felt familiar. It brought him back enough to remember who she was, where he was. But how did he get there?

He was waking up in bed. Who’s bed? His bed? He couldn’t remember.

Jason was the one to tell him about it. Jason, who’d been through it.

It took him months to get back to normal. To remember who he was, how to function.

They used the excuse that he’d traveled abroad for studies. They couldn’t classify him as dead since his body had gone missing. They had no idea who took it. If it was his mother, he never wanted to know. He’d cast her aside months ago when she’d done the same to him.

"Your dad’s not me. He’s been at this longer, understands these things better. I got in over my head and I paid the price. Your dad wouldn’t do that.”

"How do you know?“

He took a breath. His voice was quiet, careful as he could make it. "He’s seen too many people die. He knows we’re not soldiers, he knows it’s not a game, and he has too much to live for.”

There was a long moment between peaceful and tense where Mari stared at him, then at the window, then her legs.

"Go to sleep. I’ll have him wake you when he gets home.“

She laid down, the covers still at her feet.

"He is coming home, right?”

"Of course. If he let anything happen to himself, your mum would find him and kill him again“

She smiled lightly. "Thanks.”

He nodded and went for the door.

"Dami.“ She was practically yelling, like she thought if he left, he’d die again. She ran over and hugged him, squeezing as tight as she could without breaking him. "Thanks.”

She was as bad at saying what she meant as he was.

"You’re welcome. I’ll be in the next room if you need me. If you need me, bring coffee.“

She nodded against the side of his head. She was as tall as him. If she grew as tall as her mother, he’d be greatly annoyed. He didn’t need another Grayson commenting on his height.

"Go to sleep.”

She made a sweeping motion of letting go of him and went back to her bed.

Damian left without looking back. He didn’t need to see her crying to know she wasn’t sleeping again that night.


	6. Loss

Damian was fifteen when Kori died.

It was a cold virus that had taken on a slight mutation. Wayne industries took to researching it the moment she got sick. They didn’t know if it could affect humans or not, but it could affect Mari.

But Kori died in only days, long before they could even start figuring out a remedy.

Dick locked himself away in his room only coming out when Alfred went in to physically force him to shower. He’d refused to see anyone else, including Damian. Mari hadn’t tried.

She was destroyed. She couldn’t fly, couldn’t find the happiness or joy to even float. Though her starbolts would come out at seemingly random moments. She had to take a leave from school after destroying four desks, and, in the process, setting three others on fire.

She took to the streets, abandoning her friends, refusing to see them when they came over to check in on her, and ignoring their calls. She traveled all over Gotham, showing no mercy to even the most low class muggers. Damian had to intervene several times, using force to hold her down so she wouldn’t blast a starbolt through someone's head.

It was difficult to be the mature and comforting one, especially for Damian.

Especially when he liked the person being mourned. Kori was - is - an alien. But she was a kind person.

It had always bothered him when she roped him into doing things with the three of them (after all, he was “family”), or when she would randomly hug him or kiss his cheek, or when he got angry how she would grab hold of him and refuse to let him go until he calmed down.

But somehow he grew used to it; even with his mother whispering in his ear about how this type of affection made him weak.

But then her mother killed him. She had him killed. She killed him. And her words meant nothing to him. And he pushed Dick away. And Kori - and the alien - and Kori held him, and wouldn’t let go, and didn’t get upset when he yelled insults and profanities, and tried to fight her off. Somehow the woman most likely to snap, the only one who understood his confusion at how he couldn’t kill those who hurt others, just held him until he was sobbing into her chest like a child.

At some point, and he knew the exact moment, he realized she was somehow more of a mother to him than his own.

He’d been staring at his phone when she sat down next to him in her pajamas, despite it being five in the afternoon, with cocoa and a blanket that she spread out over the both of them.

"Horror or comedy?“

"Horror.”

She smiled and chose disk one. It was always disk one. Every Tuesday as they sat on the couch and marathoned movies until Kori fell asleep, she would put the movie he wanted in place of disk one, as if she knew him through and through. He would grimace at the thought of being so predictable.

Bruce was at his weekly board meeting and Dick was paroling with Mari. They had the house to themselves (save Alfred, but even Damian had no idea where he was), and Kori liked to turn up the volume as loud as it would go.

Just after the plot of the movie was explained she placed her hand on his head and ran it softly to the back of his neck, resting it there for a moment.

And there it was: the realisation. Quick and sharp and brutal. And he would carry it for years.

He comforted everyone when she died. He patrolled the day with Mari. He let Dick hold him while he cried. He sat in silence with Alfred. He trained with his father, who pushed him harder and harder as they days passed, yelling until his voice went, dealing with his own mourning the only way he knew how.

But none of it ever seemed enough for Damian. The pressure in his chest growing until it left everything empty, a swirling mix of running and holding your breath, yelling into a void. He didn’t know how to handle it, he’d never learnt this. And with Dick so lost himself, the only one who could teach him was dead, and this time the Lazerous pit couldn’t bring her back.


	7. Where to find you

Damian was sixteen when Alfred received a call from Dick saying that Mari had run away.

He was out the door before the call was finished.

It took him three hours to get to Bludhaven, even going one-hundred on the highway.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where she was. He slipped into the booth across from her, pushing the tray toward her.

She started to eat without looking at him. She just stared at the people walking outside. “Dad and I got into a fight.”

"You didn’t pack anything.“

"I just stormed out.”

"Not very smart.“

"Shut up.”

There was a silence for a while. Damian didn’t bother trying to get her to explain anything. If he tried she would only shut down.

He tapped the tray. "Do you want some more?“

"I want to be a model, but dad won’t sign the form to let me attend auditions. He says things are different now, and that it’s harsher. I can go head to head with the Joker, but X'Hal forbid I audition for a modeling job.

"Well, he’s right. Models today are over twenty-percent under a healthy weight.”

She went to cut him off, her face growing red.

Damian spoke louder. “And I know you. You're a perfectionist. You’ll do anything to succeed.”

She shoved the tray into his chest. “Thanks for the food.” She shuffled her way out of the booth.

"You don’t like what I have to say so you just run off. I’d hoped that you’d matured past that by now.“

"Don’t start with me, Damian. I’m in no mood.”

"Then I suppose it’s a shame you chose to talk to me instead of your father, isn’t it?“

"I didn’t choose to talk to you, you came to me.”

"Cut the crap, Grayson. I know you’re not that dumb. You knew when you ran out on your dad that he would call us, and that I would be the one to come here. You knew I’d be worried. None of us have secret identities anymore, you’re thirteen, your powers at night are shotty, a fighting partner is necessary for you, due to both your personality and the way you were trained, and, for god’s sake, the Joker's loose. So, whether you meant to or not, you invited me. So sit back down.“

She’d never glared at him so intently, with so much anger. It made him feel uneasy. But he was no longer ten-years-old, his poker face now was flawless.

She sat down across from him, still glaring.

He felt a cold wave wash over him. He was taking a shot in the dark with her emotions. There was an equal chance of her blowing up their table as there was of her listening to any reason. Damian blamed Dick as much as Kori. Him and his "emotional growth”.

She waited for him to talk, and glared at him more intensely than she ever had, more so than even a moment ago.

"Now, why is it so important to you that you have this job?“

She refused to talk for a long moment while Damian stared back, refusing to break eye contact.

"My mum was a model.”

"Yeah? And?“

She looked away, obviously hoping that Damian wouldn’t see her swallow, or the way her breath caught.

"Mari, tell me this isn’t about being ugly.”

She glared at him again, death in her eyes.

"For gods sake, Mari!“ He took a breath to lower his voice. Those that hadn’t already been staring had looked over. "Have you looked into the mirror lately? You are nearly perfect.”

"Dami, don’t.“

"No. We’re doing this. You have large, almond shaped eyes that literally glow.” He bent back a finger, counting off. “You have thick lips. Your skin is a golden colour that full grown women spend hundreds of dollars on spray tans to get. Your hair is six inches longer than most girls are capable of getting, and about three times as thick. And you’re as full as a girl who’s finished puberty, and you’re only thirteen. If you look like this now, imagine what you’re going to look like when you’re sixteen and old enough to model.”

She had begun crying, wiping away her tears with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Damian pulled out the travel tissues he carried in his bag and handed them to her.

"Look, Mari. You have got to stop worrying about this ‘ugly’ thing, whatever it is. Everyone’s worried about you. You’ve been avoiding the sun to become more pale, which is making you sick. You’ve been restricting your diet to slow down your developing body. You’ve been wearing turtle necks and baggy pants, even though you hate them, and, despite how relieved it makes your father, it still worries him, because he knows what it means, which you would know if you’d talked to him some time in the past year.“

He reached over and took her hand. She grasped his with both, sobbing quietly, her face contorted, somehow still beautiful.

"I know you want to prove that you’re as beautiful as your mother, but your mother wasn’t just beautiful because of the way she looked. She was kind and honest and cared about others, and that gave her a shine that attracted people. And that’s something you’re refusing to let yourself have."

She laughed lightly, the sound wet. "How uncharacteristic of you to say something so poetic.”

"Just because I don’t say something, doesn’t mean I don’t think it.“

"I always imagined your thoughts would be very factual and to the point.”

"You’ve never heard my grandfather speak. My family is very eloquent.“

She laughed again. She had heard his mother spout off sonnets off the top of her head to his father in the field, trying to win him back. But he wondered if she could remember those. Once Damian cast her aside, once she’d killed him, even she felt enough remorse to leave them be, to leave their relationship at one of casual villain and hero.

"Hey, Dami?”

He hummed at her.

"Can I stay with you for a few nights?“

"You have to ask your dad.”

She pursed her lips at him. He kept his face blank.

"Fine.“ She held out her hand and he gave her his phone.

The conversation was short and uncomfortable, but Dick agreed, probably because it had been over a year since Mari had spent any time with someone less than ten years older than her.

When they reached her apartment, Dick pulled him aside to thank him. Apparently Mari had been faring worse than Damian had realized. She’d been skipping school to prowl the streets, locking herself in her room and accidentally ruining her things when her powers went on the fritz, which was almost daily, and even vomiting from the stress of being bullied at school.

No one would believe her when she said something about it, because the other kids would claim she used force on them, which her teachers would believe because of her temper. She’d been expelled from two schools for going to them, and couldn’t risk it happening again, or else no one would take her.

She was planning on going to an arts high school, but still had six months of eighth grade before she could even apply.

Mari interrupted them, likely knowing what they were talking about, and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. She was impatient to be gone so their goodbyes were rushed.

Dick told him one last thing in a whisper as he forced him into a hug. Mari had grown attached to a boy that was kind to her, and he’d used her feelings to mock her, telling everyone and laughing about it to her face. This hurt her the most and now she was afraid to get close to others, thinking that everyone was fake.

This upset Damian more than anything else her peers had done, and he knew it was why her ugly thing had returned so suddenly. He’d heard girls crying about boys literally ruining their lives over matters of romance. But until now he’s just pointed them out to Todd.

This was personal.


	8. The Beginning

Damian's first memory was when he was three. The memory of a man showing up at his home. A tall, broad man that loomed over him. A man like none he’d ever seen before.

Damian was used to people standing straight, several feet away. This man slouched, his back arched over him, staring at him from above, like he would swoop Damian up and whisk him away to Hell. Damian could reach out and touch the man’s knees, but no higher. He was sure this man had come to kill him, and Damian was scared.

"How are you, my love?“

Damian wanted to run to his mother. But even he knew to stay where he was, not to break eye contact. If he went to his mother now, showed that weakness, he would be punished.

"Talia.” His voice was rough. Who was this man that was so different from his family, his mother and father that spoke so clearly? And why had his mother called him “my love”? Could his mother love? She didn’t even love Damian.

"You have met our son, I see.“

"Our son?”

The man looked at Damian, and he flinched. He didn’t understand what they were saying. What this man wanted with him. He did as he was suppose to and glared.

"Yes. Our son.“

"You told me you lost him.”

"I thought I had. But when my stomach continued to swell I had it rechecked. And as it turns out, he is healthier than any doctor could have imagined. He is a true heir to the al Ghul line.“

The man reached for him and Damian hit his hand away, stepping into the fighting stance he was taught. He didn’t know any more than this, but it was what he was suppose to do.

The man pulled back. Good. Damian had scared him back.

He held his breath as the man pulled his head off. Underneath was another head, one that looked like a normal man. He kneeled down in front of Damian, who stayed still. Monsters became men in books all the time.

"What’s his name?”

His mother paused, watching them. Damian looked to her for a moment before looking back. Never take your eyes off an enemy. His grandfather taught him that.

"Damian.“

He looked to her again, thinking she was calling him.

"Damian.”

Back to the man who was watching him. What was a villain suppose to look like? Was he suppose to look so nice? Sometimes his mother would look at him like this. Those were his favourite moments. He slowly put his arms down.

"Damian, I’m Bruce.“

Damian didn’t respond. Didn’t know what to say. Why was he telling him this?

"I’m your dad.”

"He doesn’t know that common word.“ His mother walked up to him, kneeling beside the man. "This is your father, Damian. This is Batman.”

Damian looked at him with wide eyes. “Batman?” He lifted his hands for a moment before gripping them, pulling them close to himself.

"It’s all right.“ The man’s voice was soft. He didn’t really know if it was all right, but he reached out again anyway. His mother would save him if anything went wrong, just like last time.

His face hurt Damian’s hands, scratching them. Still, he continued on. Above that he felt soft, like anyone else. "You don’t feel like a bat.”

He laughed, which sounded a lot like his grandfather at times, when it was just the two of them. Damian even smiled.

"I’m not a real bat. It’s just a costume.“

Damian didn’t understand that word. He would ask someone what it meant later. The important thing was that he wasn’t a bat. But then, what was he?

He looked to his mother, not sure what he should be doing. She watched them with that look that made Damian feel uncomfortable. He pulled his hands away and put them behind his back, standing up as straight as he could.

His mother stood up and walked away from them, to the other side of the room. Damian started to follow when she turned around and looked to his father that wasn’t a bat.

"Take him with you.”

"What?“

He turned back to his father, who was standing now, too. Somehow, he didn’t look as big this time.

"I want you to take him with you. It will be good for him. At least for a while. I will visit.” She smiled in a way Damian had never seen. “It will give me an excuse to come visit you.”

His father watched her for a minute before looking back to Damian, who he watched for even longer.

Damian wanted to know what was going on. He turned back to his mother, who had moved to the door. She was leaving. He wanted to run after her, but his father had said his name again.

"Do you want to come with me, Damian?“

"With you?”

"Yes. To my home.“

"Where’s that?”

"It’s in a place called Gotham. It’s very far away.“

"Will I be back in time for bed?”

His father laughed again, and again Damian smiled.

"No. Not in time for bed. You will be staying with me for a long time.“

"How long?”

"I don’t know. How long do you want to stay?“

Damian couldn’t answer. Not coming back for bed meant a very long time. He didn’t really know how time spanned after that.

"Is Mother coming?”

"Not yet. She’ll come later.“

As long as his mother was coming. "Yes. When can we leave?”

He stood up, holding his hand out to Damian, who gave it a shake, making his father laugh again. “Very soon. My granddaughter was just born and I want to see her. Do you want to see her?”

What was a granddaughter? Was it like a grandson, like Damian was? “Yes.”

"Then let’s get your stuff.“ He grabbed Damian’s hand and lead him from the den, up the stairs. Damian wasn’t sure why his father was leading him this way, but he followed. Always respect your elders, that was what his training said.


	9. Sweet Sixteen

Damian was nineteen when he first felt something for Mari, something other than the protectiveness of a big brother.

It was her sixteenth birthday, and his father had decided to throw her a fancy party, which included a formal ball where she descended the stairs with a spotlight on her.

He’d been listening to her complain about it for weeks. She didn’t fancy herself a formal dress girl, but looking at her smile as she looked down at them all, you couldn’t tell at all. When she locked eyes with Damian, she even grinned.

Her first dance was with her father, then his, then her third with Damian.

“Having fun, princess?”

“Don’t patronize me, Dami. Even in a dress I could still kick your ass.”

“Is that any way for a lady to act?”

She reached up and bopped him on the forehead. He caught her hand and spun her out, and back into his arms so they faced the same way.

And when her back touched his chest he felt it. That heartbeat in his throat, clear and heavy.

He recognized it, of course. He’d been with other women in the past. Other heroes, of course. And maybe a villain or two. Like father like son.

But feeling anything for Mari was unacceptable. He wasn’t her big brother, no, but they were like family. They were too close. They grew up together. There was a line there he couldn’t cross. She felt safe with him, and he couldn’t betray that.

A boy- a young man tapped on his shoulder, a request to cut in. Damian looked to Mari to see if she wanted to exchange partners. She nodded and he stepped back with a bow before walking off.

He found he couldn’t look at Dick.


	10. Chapter 10

**Are you avoiding me?**

Damian sighed, running his hand through his hair, and set the phone down.

Yes, yes he was ignoring Mari. He’d barely spoken to her in almost three months, and when he did it was short, one or two word responses. And yet she was just not getting the hint.

Damian was a twenty-year-old man, and Mari was a sixteen-year-old girl. And what he felt for her was not okay. So distancing himself from her was his best option until it just disappeared.

His phone buzzed again and he read the text with one eye, his other pressed into his palm.

**Damnit dami. You better answer me right now or im coming over.**

**Please text properly. You have apostrophes and a shift button for a reason.**

**This isnt funny dami! Why are you avoiding me?**

He put the phone down again. Even someone as stubborn and hard headed as her should be able to take a hint eventually.

His phone buzzed again and he groaned as quietly as he could manage. People already stared whenever he went out, and he didn’t want to attract too much more attention by being loud in the university library.

He couldn’t really fault her. She had no idea what she did to him, no idea that when she texted him how his chest and into his throat would burn up and for that split second it was hard to breathe. She had no idea what was happening. And, as cruel as that was to her, it was the way he preferred it.

He opened the text before realizing it was from Dick.

**Hey, Little D. We need to talk.**

Over protective father to the rescue.

He packed his books and computer into his bag and left, having no desire to see anyone from that family.

Dick waved to Damian from the booth he’d gotten for them and handed him a menu. “I already ordered. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Damian made a passive sound. He always ordered the same thing, but Dick let him pretend to browse anyway.

“So why are you avoiding Mari?”

Sweet and to the point. “I’m not.”

“And while we’re on the subject, why are you avoiding me?”

He glanced up, his stomach knotting when he saw Dick’s eyes, staring at him in that understanding way, trying to pull out information. He looked back to the menu. It wouldn’t work this time.

“I’m not avoiding either of you.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me. Or Mari. She’s really hurt. She thinks she did something to make you mad.”

“She didn’t do anything. I’m not avoiding her.”

The waitress came by with Dick’s milkshake and turned to Damian. “Can I start you off with something to drink, Sweety?”

“Coffee, please. And I’m ready to order as well.”

“Coffee. All right. What can I get you boys?”

“Devil’s food, please.” He handed the menu to her.

“And for you, Handsome?”

“Just some cereal.”

“Coffee, devils food, and cereal. That’ll be right out for you.”

She gave Dick a wink and walked off.

“I mean it, Little D. This thing you’re doing is wrecking her. You know she’s not good with conflict.”

Damian grimaced. Yeah, he knew. He was typically the one she called at three in the morning sobbing. And he would listen to her on his link while patrolling or doing a stakeout. And he was the one that spent every weekend with her for over a year when she didn’t have any friends.

But he couldn’t do that anymore. Sleepovers and talking on the phone for hours were different now. He wasn’t a platonic friend she could always count on, and he couldn’t really pretend to be. He couldn’t lie to her.

“She deserves an explanation, at least. We both do.”

“Look, Grayson.”

Damian stopped, pulling his phone out. He sighed very shallowly, without opening his mouth, and ignored it.

“That was Mari, wasn’t it?”

Damian glanced up at him. He’d tried to make it as inconspicuous as he could, but this was Dick he was dealing with.

“Yes.”

“Damian-”

Dick pulled his own phone out and sighed, looking sideways at Damian. He answered it. “Hey, Princess.”

Damian could hear the sobs on the other end and his gut wrenched, a physically painful experience. He gripped his hands tightly in his lap, trying to look as normal as possible. He could feel the heat at his collar.

“I know, Love. I know.” Dick waited through another round of sobs, watching Damian. “Look, I’ll be home in a few hours. Just take a hot bath and relax until then.” He paused again and sighed deeply. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just stay in Bludhaven.”

Damian took advantage of Dick averting his eyes to look at the table, quickly returning to Dick’s face.

He put his phone away, looking back to Damian. “This isn’t fair to Mari. If something is going on, she deserves an explanation.”

He sat back, smiling at the waitress as she brought their order.

He watched her leave before turning back to Damian, his empathetic face gone, and his father face in it’s place. “Mari’s known you her entire life. She’s looked up to you and counted on you. You’re her best friend.”

He knew that. And it was exactly why he was doing this.

Dick sighed, starting on his cereal. “I see I’m not going to get anywhere with this. And Mari’s freaking out at home.” He rubbed his eyes, looking old to Damian for the first time. “Just, please, think about it. I know, whatever your problem is, you hate knowing she’s like this as much as I do.”

Damian didn’t touch his food.


	11. Lecture

Damian was twenty-two when he gave his second guest lecture at Gotham University. He scanned the students in the lecture hall, picking out which were interested, and which were just there for the credits.

His eyes fell on the green ones, glaring at him with a hatred only hurt could muster.

He moved on, refusing to look at her, but he felt her. The entire class did. When he looked around at them, there was always one watching her, looking between them. Almost every one of them did it in time.

It was hard to concentrate. He realised as he fought with himself to not look at her, that his hope these feelings would fade with time is useless. His chest burned and his hands shook. Every bit of his years of training seemed to crumble when he realized his voice faltered each time she passes into his peripheral vision.

And he knew her training picked up on it.

She followed him out the door at the end, even though the class wasn’t over.

“Damian Wayne, you stop right there or I will throw you into a headlock and make you talk to me.”

He sighed and pushed the heel of his palm into the corner of his eye. “What do you want, Mari.”

She stormed up to him, and every clack of her heel made his heart jump. He was afraid of her. He could admit it.

“Where have you been these last three years?” She strode past him and spun around to look him in the eye. In those shoes she was as tall as him, which wasn’t something he typically experienced. Not that he equated height with power. Cass stood a foot-six-inches shorter than him. “You just started ignoring me, you wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong. What? Did you just decide you hate me or something?”

“Look, can we not talk about this?”

“Not talk about- Damian Wayne, we are going to talk about this if I have to sit on you!” She grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him toward her so he could only see her eyes. “What is your malfunction?”

“Nothing, Mari.” He took her hand to pry it from his shirt and felt her crumble.

She let her forehead drop on his shoulder, harsher than he was used to being touched outside his costume. She took a breath, shaky and deep, and he thought she was crying. “What did I do?”

He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as it constricted. “Mari.”

She pulled back to look at him and he could feel his resolution crumble, tension seeping from his body. She hadn’t been crying, but she looked so helpless and weak, and so not Mari.

He thought this time would help her, too. She’d stopped calling him after a year. Dick had stopped talking to him, as well. It was lonely without them, since he and his father never really bonded. But it had to be done. It had to.

He sighed, looking away from her, dropping her hand. It fell to her side and he glanced at it for a moment before looking back to her. “I have to go.”

She surged forward, grabbing the fabric just below his shoulders, balling it into his fists. “Don’t you dare! You owe me an explanation!”

He tried to pull free, to pry her fingers open. “Mari, please-”

“No, Damian. If I did something wrong, I need to know. Just tell me.”

“Let me go, Mari.”

“I won’t! Talk to me!”

“Mari, stop!”

She gasped, stepping backward. Her fingers loosened and he pulled away with a jerky movement. He hadn’t been so sloppy since he was a child.

And he’d never used that tone with her. Even when they’d screamed and yelled at each other, it was friendlier, the kind you could just let yourself go with because you knew the other person would still be there when you calmed down.

His voice was deep and forceful. He felt himself falter under her unguarded hurt, her entire body shaking.

Her hair was lit at the ends, but not the flame he used to be so accustomed to. It was like a candle, the light not even strong enough to cast a shadow in the dim hallway.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

He took a deep breath and turned away from her. “I have to go.”

“Dami…”

He strode down the hall, using all his training to keep a steady pace, to not respond to her weak, cracking voice. To not run away.


	12. Fight

Damian was twenty-three when he was sent to Bludhaven to make a business deal. He stuck to the shadows to avoid any contact with the city’s sunny heroes.

“Damian!”

He looked up as Mari landed beside him, groaning. “It’s Batman, Nightstar.”

She rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows who you are. Why do you even wear a mask?”

“If criminals can’t see my face, it unnerves them.“

"Of course. Wouldn’t want anyone to mistake you for friendly.”

He put his binoculars away. “Can I help you?”

She gave a pointed, bitter laugh. “No, you’ve already proven that you don’t have any interest in helping me.”

It was the truth, but it still twisted his gut.

“What I want to know is why you’re here.”

“Business.”

“No. That’s why you’re in town. Why are you here, patrolling? This isn’t Gotham; we don’t put fear in our criminals hearts.”

He stood, keeping his back toward her, and pulled out a batclaw. “The city could use an extra pair of eyes.”

She scoffed. “You mean you’re avoiding your problems by looking for a fight, just like your father.”

“No. I’m just patrolling.”

"Right. The great Damian Wayne doesn’t have problems. He doesn’t feel. Because he doesn’t care about anyone but himself.“

She was baiting him. He wouldn’t take it. But his pulse did race at her accusation.

She took a step closer to him, and the way her boot crunched on the debris of the rooftop made his heart jump. "You learnt a lot from your father. It’s just too bad humanity wasn’t part of it.”

He grit his teeth, and he knew she smirked at him.

“What was it, I wonder, that you got from me? That’s why you were kind to me, isn’t it? Just like your grandfather.”

“I am nothing like him!” Damian turned to her, fists balled, teeth clenched. “Don’t you ever compare me to him again.”

Mari tilted her head up, looking down her nose at him. “So he’s not made of stone after all.”

She’d won. He’d acted like a child.

He clicked his tongue and shot a grappling to a nearby roof, pulling himself up.

“Oh no you don’t.”

Mari flew up, grabbing the back of his coat, and yanked him into the air. “You are not getting away from me that easily.”

“Nightstar!” Damian twisted himself, grabbing her wrist. “Release me!”

“Not until you agree to talk to me.”

He pulled a smoke bomb from his belt and threw it in her face.

She coughed as it exploded, dropping him.

Damian was only off balance for a moment before he shot another grappling, swinging to a nearby rooftop and running for it.

Except he knew he wasn’t fast enough. His only chance was to hide.

When he jumped into an ally, an energy blast hit him in the back, and he went sprawling to the ground, landing in a pile of trash.

He was glad to know, even as angry as she was, Mari still wasn’t willing to cause him serious harm. Though, if she were, it would be better. She wouldn’t have been working so hard to get him to talk to her.

She stalked toward him, her shoulders back, muscles tense, every step deliberate. Her eyes bore into him. She was both terrifying and beautiful in the same ways, and it was exactly the reason Damian couldn’t love her.

“You are not getting away from me again.”

Damian got to his feet, but Mari, with a grip on his shoulder and her leg hooked around his, had him on his back. She put a knee and all her weight on his chest to keep him down.

“Now you’re going to tell me why you left and refused to speak to me for three years, or so help me you will never walk without a limp again.”

The breath he’d been holding came out in a huff under the pressure she put on him.

“Mari.”

“No. Speak.”

“I can’t.”

She glared down at him and he noticed her eyes were tinted red, from the smoke bomb or forcing herself not to cry. “Try.”

He took a deep breath. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She pushed down harder. “Try me.” She relented just enough that she was using the same amount of force as before. Damian could probably measure it and find identical results. It was beyond impressive. “I want to know why you hate me.”

He was having even more difficulty breathing after that extra force. “I never hated you.”

“What?”

With her eyes wide, she faultered, and Damian took advantage of it to twist her so she was on her stomach, both her arms twisted behind her back, and he sat on her waist.

“That was a nasty trick.” She glared up at him, her face pressed to the street.

The sight and the feel of her shot a thrill though him, and he blushed, his training completely failing him.

She noticed and tossed him off her.

The two fought like children, Mari sitting on his chest, grabbing for his hands while he flailed to keep them away from her, making Mari almost smile.

When she had his wrists pinned to the ground, leaning over him, he held her gaze. “It wasn’t a trick. I never hated you.”

Her eyes watered. “Then what? Why did you leave? why did you run away from me? And don’t you dare say you it’s for my own good. I’m not a damsel in distress.”

He held her gaze.

“I will keep you here for a week. I don’t tire the way you do.”

Damian sighed. She would. And even if he did manage to get away, with this determination, she would almost certainly follow him back to Gotham. She was relentless, a trait he’d always admired in her.

Still, even though he tried to tell her how he’d felt these last three years, he couldn’t manage to get out a single word.

“Am I interrupting something!”

They both looked to Dick, arms crossed, staring down at them with raised brows and half lidded eyes.

“Dad! I’m forcing information out of him.”

Dick put a hand on her back. "Let him up, Princess. You won’t get anything out of him this way.”

“Then how?” Her hands tightened on his wrists, which had started to go numb. “Because waiting does nothing. Asking does nothing. If I hit him I might accidentally kill him.”

He lead her to her feet lightly, and Damian sat up, rubbing his wrists as his fingers started to tingle.

“Why don’t you go and cool off? Leave this to me.”

Mari’s hair lit up at the tips, but she turned away from Damian. “Make sure you get an answer from him, or else I’ll transfer to the Gotham campus and beat it out of him.”

“I know. Now take a flight.” He kissed her cheek and she shot off.

Damian stood, removing wet fast food wrappers and coffee grounds from his suit. “Thank you for that, but I have no intention of talking about this with you.”

“When are you going to tell Mari you’re in love with her?”

He turned to Dick, his entire body lighting up like a grease fire, his pulse racing as fast as when he’d first locked eyes with Mari in that lecture hall.

“What are…” The way his voice cut out was a confession.

“I’ve known since we talked in that diner three years ago. You act the same way Bruce did with Selina.”

He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. “You’re not angry?”

“Oh, I am.”

His chest felt heavy.

“But not because you love Mari. I was shocked at first, and against it. But I’ve had plenty of time to think it over.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Mari’s an adult. She can make her own decisions, and she can protect herself. And she’s not an idiot. She knows she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to.”

“But…” Damian’s voice was quiet, and he couldn’t look at Dick. “I shouldn’t feel this way, not for Mari.”

“Why?”

Damian looked up, startled, then away as his chest went cold. “Because-”

Every reason left him at that simple question. They all seemed so childish and pathetic. Excuses.

“Because I’m me. We grew up together. She’s your daughter.”

Dick sighed. “None of that matters. You love who you love. Kori taught me that.”

Damian’s body still felt heavy at the mention of her.

“And I trust you.”

He couldn’t breathe. His ears rang.

“You do?”

“Damian.” Dick walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, and, for a moment, Damian felt uncomfortable standing eight inches taller than him. “I watched you grow up. Hell, I half raised you myself. I worked side by side with you, and I was there when you separated yourself from your mothers side of your family. I watched you fight against your hatred and become close to Kori.” Dicks voice cracked when he said her name, and it sent a chill through Damian.

“I helped you hold Mari when you were three, and you smiled down at her and said she was yours. You looked at me with the most adorable glare and swore to protect her. And, until three years ago, you did just that. So, yes, I trust you.”

Dick’s hand on his shoulder was hot.

"So, then, why are you angry?”

“Because you hurt her. Knowingly, and on purpose.”

Damian resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “I did.”

“Do you regret it?”

He collected his thoughts and his feelings, and Dick waited for him patiently.

“Every day.”

“Then tell her.”

His eyes widened under his mask. He wanted to argue, but Dick was right, as usual. “How?”

“Just do it. Use that determination and force it out.”

Again, he was right. It was the only way, Damian already knew that. But having Dick put a voice to it made him realize how pathetic he’d been over the past three years.

Three years. Suddenly they seemed like forever.

“Okay.”

“Good. And Damian?”

“Yes?”

Dick hugged him. “It’s good to see you.”

Damian hugged him back, melting into him. Even leaning down he felt the same as he had at ten when he pretended he hated when Dick hugged him: safe, loved, and accepted.


	13. Confession

Damian walked into the Gotham University girls only dorm. He went to the top floor and found the door with Mari’s name on the plate.

He stalled at the door that looked like a teenage girl’s locker. There were cut out hearts covered with glitter, notes from other girls in large, looping letters, streamers, and pictures of celebrities, mostly action stars.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to process this information.

He heard someone laugh down the hall and decided he didn’t want to get caught staring at her door like a creep.

He knocked and heard footsteps pat their way to the door. The pace was quick, not Mari’s even stride.

A petite girl, not much taller than Cass, looked up at him craning her neck until she took a step back.

“Hello. Is-”

She gasped, sucking in a loud breath, and covering her mouth with one hand, pointing at him with the other. “Batman!”

“Yes. Is Mari here?”

“Batman!”

She wasn’t listening. Damian peaked into the room and saw Mari at her desk with headphones on.

The girl followed his eyes and ran over to her. She took her shoulders and shook them.

Mari took off the headphones, putting them around her neck, and turned to her, twisting away from Damian.

“Batman!” She pointed to him again.

Mari turned to him. When their eyes met, she glared. She stood and walked over to him, her hair on fire, her petite roommate in toe. “What do you want?”

“To talk to you.”

She crossed her arms. “Oh, really. Why now? Why not yesterday? Or three years ago?”

His throat felt dry. “Your father…”

“Dad? You’re talking to me because dad told you to?”

“No, that’s not…” Never in his life had his voice failed him to such an extent. It was mortifying. “Can we go somewhere?”

Her roommate bounced back and forth. “I can go somewhere else.”

“No.” Mari kept her eyes on Damian. “I don’t want to break anything. We’ll go to the field behind the student centre. Lots of room to move there.”

Damian stuffed his hands in his pockets.

She’d started to look awkward, but her eyes were still shining on Damian. “Okay. You might want to put on some pants then.”

He hadn’t noticed she was in her underwear. His ears and neck turned red.

She closed the door on him.

Five minutes later they were making their way across the campus in awkward silence.

“Your roommate’s nice.”

“She is.”

He sighed. She was not going to make this easy on him.

When they reached the field, Mari turned on her heel and faced Damian, who nearly walked into her.

“So you’re ready to tell me why you abandoned me for three years?”

He wasn’t, at all. He doubted he ever would be. But he had to.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He ran a shaking hand through his hair.

Even knowing he was going to die hadn’t frightened him this much.

He was losing his nerve.

He looked her in the eye and forced the words out.

“I love you.”

For a moment her expression didn’t change. Then she screwed up her face. “You what?”

“I love you.” It was somehow more difficult to say the second time.

His heart pounded as he waited for a response, any response.

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “That’s it?”

His expression mirrored hers. “What?”

“You abandoned me for three years because you’re too emotionally constipated to tell me you love me?”

“It hardly feels like a ‘that’s it’ confession to me.”

“I should pumble you, Damian Wayne! Do you have any idea what you did to me? How I felt after you left?” She held up her fists, leaning forward, putting her weight onto the balls of her feet. “I was sixteen, and all of a sudden my best and only friend was ignoring me. Do you have any idea how much that messed me up? I almost got held back because I missed so much school. Only after I came here and I met Maps did I start to feel better.

"You really put me through the mill, Damian. And for what? Your hero complex?”

He opened his mouth to say something.

“No, you don’t get to defend yourself. I’m not done yet.”

She put her fists on her hips, huffed, and turned away from him. “And what is with you telling me you 'love me’? Huh? Is this a new revelation, or is it why you abandoned me? Because I know you’ve had girlfriends since then. The entirety of New Jersey knows you’ve had girlfriends. No.” She held up her hand to silence him. “Not done.”

He huffed, clenching his fists in his pockets. Why was she asking questions if she didn’t want answers?

No. He was aware enough of his own emotions to know he just wanted to come clean. He felt heavier than he had these last three years combined now that the lid was off.

She paused, glaring at him. “Jerk.”

Another paused dragged on after that for several minutes.

He raised his brows at her. “Are you done?”

She jutted her jaw out at him. “Yes.”

He sighed, his shoulders falling. “It happened at your sixteenth birthday party. You were too young, and we were too close. It frightened me. We grew up together, in the same house.”

He couldn’t look at her. His pulse was already racing, and every time he caught sight of her glare, his chest would tighten, and it would hurt in an entirely unique way. “I thought - hoped - that some time away would fix it. So I distanced myself from you.”

“You ignored me.”

He closed his eyes tight, clenching his jaw and baring his teeth, looking down to the side. “Yes, I did. And I make no excuses to that. I was wrong to do so.”

He opened his eyes, keeping his head turned toward the ground. “Soon I just became too frightened to talk to you again. I was scared to confess how I felt to anyone aside from myself. I’d have avoided even that if I could. I’m sure I did for a time.”

“So what did my dad say to make you change your mind?”

He tried to look at her, but couldn’t manage to move. “He already knew.”

“He what!”

She sounded as angry as he’d expected her to be. He pitied Dick her wrath.

“Yes. So here we are.”

“And the other girls?”

“I liked them all for a time.” He blinked and willed himself to look up, finally. His heart beat once, hard, in his throat when they locked eyes. “That’s really all there is to it.”

She held his gaze until he lowered it, for just a moment. She moved her hand to her forehead. “I need to think.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Do not come to me. It’s time for you to be left out in the cold.”

He deserved that.

She flew off, leaving a trail of smoke from her rage-lit hair.

Had he not been Batman, he would have collapsed. Instead he walked, with shaking legs, back to his car, and just sat in it for a long while, staring at the bush directly in front of him.


	14. See You Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I'm caught up.

Damian was twenty-four when he finally saw Mari again, after a fight with one of the new Joker-esque gangs that had started to surface in recent months.

They were stupid kids who had no idea what they were emulating. The oldest he’d dealt with was maybe fourteen, just punk kids who weren’t old enough to remember the true horrors of the original monster.

Yet, when he saw her, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Don’t think that my being here means I’m not still mad at you.”

“Okay.”

She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re still an ass.”

“Okay.”

“And I still haven’t forgiven you for abandoning me for three years.”

“Okay.”

“Would you stop saying ‘okay’?”

He reached out and took a lock of her hair, twisting it around a finger. “It’s good to see you again, Nightstar.”

She blushed and turned away from him. “No fraternizing on the job, Batman.” She grabbed the back of the shirt of one of the kids he’d apprehended. “We need to get these runts to the authorities.”

She took off with him, leaving Damian with the other two.

When one of them laughed at him for breaking his dark knight mask, Damian knocked him out and took them to the police station, Mari already gone when he got there.


	15. The Heart of This Corruption and Cruelty

It was on Damian’s twenty-fifth birthday when Mari finally started talking to him again, at least as Damian.

They’d gotten used to working together over the past year, but now she was graduating college and getting ready to start a job working with victims of domestic abuse and the sex trade, and she was scared.

So, somehow, she’d found herself at Damian’s side. An old habit that never fully died.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be a cop.”

“No.” She stared down at the glass in her hands, taking a breath. “That was just because I wanted to be like dad.”

“And you don’t anymore?”

“No, I do. But in a me way, you know?” She looked at him, hoping for some sort of understanding.

He did know. Mari was the perfect blend on her parents, and the perfect blend of her people. But she was still so uniquely Mari.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back before looking over the garden.

She stepped closer to the railing, setting her drink on it, and leaning forward on her forearms. “It’s so impersonal. You confront these people who did or didn’t do these awful things, cuff them, then do some paperwork.”

Damian’s eyes trailed up her form, stretched out, her back curved. He turned and mimicked her pose. “Isn’t that what we do every night?”

“No. Well, yes. But as heroes we can really help people, get there and do what we need to. We don’t have all the red tape that dad does.”

Damian hummed, watching her, waiting for her to continue.

“What I’m doing will matter. I’ll be helping people who’ve been hurt. I’ll help them deal with their pain and start a new life. I’ll protect them. As a police officer, you don’t get that. It’s all action and guns and yelling and orders.”

“You’ve always liked to get right to the core of things.”

Her eyes were still sparkling when she looked at him. “I want to tear out the heart of this corruption and cruelty.”

He smiled at her, his lips twitching. He reached out and touched her earring, looking her in the eyes. “Do it.”

Someone behind them cleared his throat and Damian turned to him, frightening him with his glare.

He was someone that worked for his company, but he could never remember people the way his father could. “Master Wayne, sir. Miss Harper is looking for you.”

He sighed and looked to Mari, who was already removing her jewelry. “Meet you at the cave?”

“Ten minutes.”

He watched her fly off for just a moment before following their interrupter to Lian to see what was wrong.


End file.
